Nevermore
by lenokiie
Summary: An extension of the scene between Eona and her master after being chosen by the Mirror Dragon.


**A/N: I am very disappointed. Am I the only one who ships Eon and her master? I sure hope not :( I would love to see more stories with him...hehe Anyways, welcome to my story :) I hope you will enjoy it!**

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He felt her touch his arm, perhaps seeking his reassurance. "Will it be alright, master?" She asked.

He looked down at the hand and hesitated, then covered her hand with his. "It will be better than all right. You have done so well. We will be more powerful than even I had hoped. And if things go to plan, I will be back on the Council and finally be able to hobble Ido's ambitions." He smiled warmly. "No more hard times for us, Eon."

She smiled back at him, his praises inciting a genuine smile that lit up her face. "We can have sweet buns every day." She said.

"Sweet buns?" He repeated with a laugh. "We can have shark fin everyday if we want it." He grabbed her hands and stood, swinging her off the bed. "I'm very proud of you, Eon."

He pulled her against his body, seeking to embrace her. He burrowed his face in her short hair, stroking its softness. She rested her head on his shoulders, a comforting notion. Her smock had slipped from her shoulders, revealing her naked top. He swept her hair over her thin shoulders, dragging his hand across the nape of her neck. Before he could stop himself, his hand had traveled down towards her jutting collarbones. How skinny she was, a result of insufficient food sources and pressing hard work. His hand lowered more to her breasts, petite from years of binding her chest, enjoying the feel of the soft curves. Then, abruptly, a spark of energy ignited between them. It stung him painfully and he leaped back.

But that did not deter him. His hand still stinging, he leaned forward, cupping her face, and softly pressed his lips against hers. Eon -no, _Eona_ - stiffened and paused, and so he pulled away, hurt and shame slowly descending on him, attempting to keep his eyes away from her. No, that was cowardly. He had to face her. He reluctantly met her gaze, and to his relief, she did not look angry. She swallowed and bit her lip. If only she knew the extent of her femininity, but ultimately, it was he who had denied her the opportunity to live a normal life.

Deeply ashamed, he started to turn away, but her hand shot out and touched his arm once more. Surprised, he turned back to look at her when she got on the tip of her good foot and returned the tender kiss. She started to lose her balance and his hands instantly went and held her steady at waist, bending over slightly so she could reach his face. She had a dearth of experience in the passion of love, he'd expect, and so he took the lead. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, making her gasp, opening her mouth to him. His tongue entered, slowly exploring the inside of her mouth, and found her own tongue mimicking his motions, her hands grasping the front of his robes. He broke away from her mouth to her neck, leaving trails of airy kisses upon the fair skin, his fingers gently playing with the already hardening nipples. The shock of energy was still lingering upon her heated skin, but not so much anymore as she gave more and more of herself to him. He felt her run her hands across his shaved skull, her warm fingers caressing his smooth head.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting hers, him searching for any sign of non-consent. Finding none, he let his hands run over her tiny bum, his hips and thighs pressing against hers. He felt his member stir against her body. In any other situation, he would have been embarrassed, but this was not such a time. Eona let out a little gasp at the feel of his growing point. Such intimacy must be unknown to her, he thought, but the thought dispersed as her tiny hands snaked down and stroked him. He let out an a little groan, passion begging to over take him as he pulled at the last of her clothes. They slipped away easily, the thin fabric falling around her feet.

Oh, how he had always admired her. From the moment he had laid eyes on her in that ratchet farm, he felt a certain longing, a feeling that only increased over the years spent with her. At times, he was aware of her womanly nature, but other times, he deceived himself to believe otherwise and treated her like any other apprentice, if any harsher to conceal his growing affections. They were actions that he would regret instantly after they've been implemented, but never had he openly apologized.

His hands moved over her body, her shivering at his touch. He brought his lips down to suckle a nipple. He heard her inhale a sharp intake of breath and her fingers started to work quickly to undo his sash and release his dragon. A fleeting question of her true experience passed in his mind.

At that moment, as he made to switch to the other nipple, his eyes involuntarily wandered down to her bare leg. Her lame leg. The twisted flesh with the remnants of bruises she'd suffer from the match earlier. His stomach churned, waves of guilt overwhelming him. He forced himself to step back from her hands. She looked up at him, startled by his sudden detachment, her large eyes widening in confusion. He instantly lowered his gaze; now he could not bring himself to meet hers. If only she knew, and perhaps it was better that she did not and remained ignorant of his crime. He bent down, picked up her silk smock, beat it with a hand to rid of dust that might had gathered on it, and swung it over her shoulders, closing it protectively under her chin. He willed himself to meet her gaze, fully seeing her for the female she truly was.

And here she stood in all of her womanliness. He swallowed, the beginnings of tears stinging the back of his eyes. He offered her a smile, which she confoundedly returned, clasping his hands with her smaller ones. He pulled his away and made to make himself decent, all this time not saying another word. He could deduce that Eona was bursting to say something, but her training and respect for him held her tongue. He owed her an explanation, yes, but that could come later. Much later.

"Master..." She called. How had he never realized that her sweet melody of a voice was one that belonged to a girl?

"You must stop calling me Master." He said roughly. "You are Lord Eon, and when you confirm me, I will be Lord Brannon. That is how it must be." His jaw tightened to hide his trembling lower lip. He bid her a hasty good night and left the room. He stood with his back against her door and it was there that his tears spilled down his cheeks. He did not realize that she could see his shadowy outline against the thin screen of a door.

But nonetheless, he had already taken her life. He could not take her flower.


End file.
